When my beloved CS Lewis (rabbit, not famed author) was better after his illness, Michael got me a bushel of baby girl bunnies to keep him company. Rabbits are highly social, so they do better in groups. Easter weekend last year, we added Seafairy, Kelda, and Merry the Blueberry to our pet pantheon.
My sister Amber had two rabbits that I ended up assimilating as well—Turbo, a tiny little gentleman rabbit that looks as though he’d been gnawed on (because he had) and Biggie Smalls, CS Lewis’s uncle.
It was my goal when the girls got old enough to breed one litter before getting the boys neutered. We were blessed with a litter from Merry Berry in late summer of four perfect little kits, but a bacterial infection cut through the nest, ending all four. It was so sad.
We took Biggie in to get neutered and found out that he had cancer riddling his little man body. The prognosis was just a few months. We decided not to put him through the trauma of a surgery when he was in his final run. He passed away New Year’s Day.
January 18th we found out that as sick as that old man was, doesn’t mean he wasn’t still tryin (and succeeding) to toss some game toward my girls. My Merry Berry proudly showed me what she had made: 11 tiny little kits.
How are we not overrun by rabbits, then? This brings us to our second thing you should know:
Rabbits love to die.
It has to be their favorite pastime, because rabbits die a lot. My vet friend said a lot of vets won’t even see them once because “they sneeze once and then fall over dead.” They are prey animals that are susceptible to disease and predators and weather changes and just their own stupidity; 40% of all litters are estimated to die. Instead of evolving so that they don’t die every time, they just rapid fire out offspring and hope that at least one sticks around to carry on the family line.
Merry Berry actually had two full litters that day. Average litter sizes are 2-10, but it’s hard to feed that many at one time. One litter was healthy and robust, four rotund white cotton balls with tummies bulging with milk and teeny limbs branching out. The other 7 were notably premature. They were small and thin, bony, but the worst sign was: they were chilled. Baby bunnies that are cold is a bad sign for their survival chances. We tried our hardest, and I’m happy to say that three actually made it. I wish we could have saved them all, but I will not dismiss the victory because it was incomplete. Two little blacks and one tiny white survived.
They will be three weeks old on the 8th. Their eyes are now open, as are their ears, and they are starting to explore. This is both the cutest time and the most wrangling because they are so curious and mischievous, getting out and about.
Which means it’s time to introduce you, and to get your opinion.
Know that: rabbit genitals at this point are super tiny, so we can’t sex them yet. It’s really kind of a best guess scenario until their testicles descend. So I use whatever pronoun suits me at the moment for any of them, as I will in the descriptions below.
FLUFFERNUTTER
This bunny is: The fattest. His fur is longer so he looks even bigger than he is, but don’t let that fool you—he’s also humongous. He’s the one that wants you to pick him up whenever you open the cage, and when you do he will settle down to sleep on your chest like he owns the place, purring and swaying contentedly. His name was picked out by my aide at work, who asked if she could name one—Fluffernutter just suited him.
LILLY LITTLE
Tula named this one—she is the second smallest; Tula couldn’t decide between Lilly and Emily, but when she saw how tiny this one was, Tula knew she had to be Lilly Little. Her personality is very chill and timid, like her Aunt Kelda. Not very into cuddles, she seems most at home in the nest and doesn’t venture out as much as the others. She is one of the premies, and survived solely because the next one decided that they should never be apart; he kept her warm until she was big enough on her own.
SISQO
This one was named because he’s got dumps like a truck, truck, truck and thighs like what, what, what. He’s just as fat as Fluffernutter, but it’s harder to tell because he’s not as fluffy. He can usually be found laying on his back, his legs stuck out through the bars of the cage, dead asleep with Lilly Little curled into his side. Rabbits don’t, as a general rule, sleep on their backs. They do however nurse on their backs—their mother just hops into the nest and stands there while all of the babies wriggle into position. He got so swollen on the many milks that his ineffectual arms couldn’t flip his corpulent body back over, so he just got into the habit of sleeping upside down.
ST VINCENT AND THE GRENADINES
Of course Ben named this one. Who else?
This was the first rabbit named, because it is a -terror-. First out of the nest, this shenanigans factory will explore as far as she can before she gets caught. When she is caught, she will nip at you with her comically new baby teeth and wiggle, hurling herself in any and all directions. The exception is when Ben picks her up. She immediately turns into melted bunilla ice cream in his hands. St Vin is going to be a handful, as she has been the first to squeeze her body out of the cage, first to eat real food, and the first to square up against me.
MISSY JUMPER
While we are on the topic of disasters, this is Missy Jumper. Missy because of the Doctor Who character.
Jumper because she has won the gold medal in long jump, if the “long jump” can be characterized as ineptly hurling yourself in any direction and ingloriously bellyflopping on arrival. She is active, does not like being held because she got places to be, and is the only other black bun from the litter.
LEBUN JAMES
This one was hard to get a picture of, which is why I’m holding him like a burrito. This is LeBun James. He’s the last of the big whites. He likes to burrow and hide, usually under his siblings, and was voted Most Likely to Burrow So We Panic and Think There Is a Bunny Missing But He’s Just Tucked Himself In. Thats why he’s hard to get a picture of—he immediately tries to stick his face somewhere. If you hold him and cup your hand over his head, he will be quite the happy little bunlet.
And last but not least….
?????
This where you come in.
If you have any suggestions for what this little critter could be named, let us know. It would be awfully tragic if Little Miss Noname stuck because we had plumbed the depths of monikers right on the last one.
No meat names though. These aren’t eating rabbits, they are buddy rabbits.
All our bunnies are pleased to make your acquaintance. Merry Berry is happy you’re here and asks (demands) that you pay feasance first by providing the Queen Mother pets or you will suffer the consequences (irritate nipping). She also accepts offerings of blueberries, as is only right, and clover.
Love from the burrow,
-Andie-
